Suspend Your Disbelief
by Paperoo
Summary: Innocence lost, happiness long gone, heart filled with vengeance. He was a broken man. Yet somehow she managed to slip in, easing herself in between the cracks like the missing piece of a puzzle. In her eyes he saw something he once had a long time ago. Little did he know that his eyes held that one thing she always wanted.


**Disclaimer:** I'll say this once. I don't own Hunter x Hunter and I never will. Yoshihiro Togashi is the genius behind it and I'm just a fan enjoying his masterpiece. And I don't own the references, quotes and song lyrics that I'll be using/mentioning in this fic. All of those belong to their respective owners.

Kurapika will be OOC in the first part of this chapter, so yeah, consider this as a warning. But there'll be an explanation to it, so don't get to it too much. I admit, capturing his character is hard as hell, but I'm trying my best to keep him as the Kurapika we all know and love.

Man, I wish this site would allow up to four genres for every entree. I wanted to include 'Adventure' and 'Friendship', but they would only allow two. Bummer.

I'm babbling too much. Okay, go.

* * *

_Suspend your disbelief; erase all the doubts and uncertainties in your heart and submit yourself completely as I tell you the account of how I was, how I became, and how you changed my path along the way._

* * *

He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh scent of spring air that gave a calming effect. The yellow flowers scattered throughout the meadow swayed back and forth in the breeze, resembling a brilliantly choreographed dance. Lazy sunrays casted the place, giving the yellow colors of daffodils a vibrant glow. Blades of grass tickled his palms and bare feet as he leaned back and stared at the scenery before him in wonderment.

"This place is beautiful," said his companion, a young woman, softly before giving him a light kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for bringing me here Kurapika." She rested her head on his shoulder and let out a blissful sigh.

Kurapika glanced at the girl, his lips curling into a small smile. He loved seeing her like this; so serene and free of worries.

Her name was Amira, and she was one pretty lass. Sunshine-colored hair flowed with elegance, skin with the lightest shade of apricot, pure thoughtful blue eyes, and a smile of enchantment. She was the loveliest woman of their tribe. And at this very moment, she was sitting beside him in this bed of blooming daffodils and nothing else mattered.

The boy reached down to pluck the nearest yellow flower from him. "The daffodil," he said conversationally as he the touched the soft texture of its petals, "is a symbol for rebirth and hope. The first blossoming of this flower heralds the arrival of spring, along with the hopes of a happier life."

She laughed- that tender and familiar laugh that he always loved hearing. "Kurapika, I never knew you have quite the knowledge in floriography." She took the flower from his hand and looked at it adoringly. "She's very beautiful."

"_Not as beautiful as you are,"_ Kurapika had wanted to say, but decided not to. Instead, he continued to observe her in silence, admiring how her eyes sparkle of amusement over simple things. He reached down once more, this time picking more daffodils from the wide-ranging collection around them and gathered the flowers together in a single bouquet. "And it is also said that giving someone a single daffodil would bring misfortune," said the lad, handing the bouquet to her carefully. "So, I'm giving you a bunch to wish you happiness, Amira."

Amira held the bouquet to her nose. She closed her eyes as she inhaled their sweet fragrance. "They smell good. It somehow reminds me of a distant memory, I couldn't exactly remember…" A beat later, she turned to the boy, now a beaming a grin. "Hey Kurapika, tell me a story from that strange book you've been reading. I think a little storytelling wouldn't hurt."

Kurapika raised a brow. "I thought you had enough of my silly, outlandish stories?"

"I guess I grew fond of them. Come on, I want to hear more."

They remained in the meadow for a couple more of hours. A spring afternoon filled with long conversations, lazy caresses, and laughter. He told her stories, and she listened. They talked about everything and nothing. This was their moment, a very special moment he would cherish forever.

Twilight came sooner than both of them had originally anticipated. The sun lingered over the horizon, giving the sky a wonderful mixture of yellow, purple and orange hues. Fireflies started to appear, flickering through the cool air whilst giving illumination to the dimming meadow with their small dotted lights. Kurapika realized that it was getting late.

"Come now, Amira. It's time to go home," he said, standing up. He brushed the stray grass off his clothes then offered a hand to help her up. "They'll go looking for us once it gets too late."

"Alright," she mumbled, taking the offered hand. She stood up, head slanted upward, looking at the dusking sky. A wistful smile was placed on her small pink lips. The reflection of the sunset was seen in her eyes, making them shine.

And he just watched her, taking in every detail of her features.

"I don't want this to end," said Amira. Her blue eyes slid from the sky to Kurapika, meeting his gaze with nostalgia. "I wish this moment could last forever."

"Forever is a long time, don't you think?" The boy chuckled lightly and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I don't mind."

Kurapika cupped her face in his hands, softly caressing her cheekbones with both of his thumbs. Smiling gently, he then leaned forward to kiss her. "I wish this moment could last forever too," he whispered.

But before their lips touch, everything turned black.

* * *

And that was when Kurapika woke up. The dream was fading; vanishing into oblivion as he groggily opened his eyes and met the familiar sight of a white ceiling. Sitting up, he glanced at the silver clock hanging on the cream wall. It was 7:15. His eyes scanned the whole place quickly, making sure that he had already woken up to the real world. He was in his flat, in his bedroom. He was in his bed, not lying down on grass of a place he'd never been to. He wasn't at a meadow, but back at York Shin. There was not a single yellow flower anywhere in the room. He looked past the blue curtained window and saw no sunset. Everything was a dream.

_She was a dream. _

Amira. That was her name, a name that sounded so strangely familiar, yet he couldn't recall knowing and meeting that woman.

Kurapika took a deep breath to calm himself. He shouldn't be thinking about it. He should stop thinking. She was, after all, a dream. She was nobody real.

But why did everything felt real? The crisp cool air of spring, the smell of pines from the woods, her soft, lingering touches and tender laughter; everything felt very real.

How long had these recurring dreams been haunting him? He had a rough estimation of two weeks, or maybe three, he was a little vague on details. But he did remember that it started with a foreign and somehow, pleasant feeling. It was during the day when he felt a silk ribbon of strange sensations entangle his body, numbing his mind and soothing his senses. On that night he slept, she appeared to his dream and she never left. Some parts of his recurring dreams were rather amorphous, as all dreams were, but there would always be the girl, the meadow, and the field of daffodils.

Kurapika wiped the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead despite the cold humidity coming from the air conditioning unit. There were so many questions circling all over his head. Who was she? Why did he keep on dreaming about her? What was this mystery woman's connection to him? What were these dreams all about? Were they a sign? A warning? A premonition? Had he gone insane? The last part was a bit out of place. He hoped not.

Maybe these dreams were actually a repressed memory. Now that could be a possibility. Perhaps some of his memories were unconsciously blocked due to trauma or some sort of psychological stress he had or might have been experiencing, and those blocked memories were manifested through his dreams. However, basing on the scenarios from the dream, like the fact that he was in his current age and the Kuruta were still alive, this theory seemed unfitting. The dreams appeared to be more of an alternate timeline where the massacre never took place. Then it couldn't have been a repressed memory. Or maybe it really was just a dream and he's overanalyzing the issue. _Just a dream._ Or maybe it supposed to mean something-

_No. Kurapika, stop thinking_. He shouldn't be over thinking. He had much more important matters to attend to. He reached for his phone at his bedside table and stared at its screen. There were 7 unread mails, all bearing the same message: 'AUCTION TOMORROW AT VEZELKA. SEE YA THERE!' He placed the phone back on the table. He felt that there was no necessity to reply, they all knew he would be there.

Begrudgingly, Kurapika got up from the twin-sized bed and walked to his private bathroom for a shower. Perhaps a cold splash might help him get back on track and forget about the whole dream matter. He closed the bathroom door behind and locked it, mentally noting himself that he had booked a flight to Vezelka for the auction and had to be on the airport in an hour.

Moments later, Kurapika emerged from the shower room with a damped towel wrapped around his lean waist. He had developed a rather petite body built as compared to other males around his age group, but he wasn't grotesquely thin and feeble. He had always considered his delicate and unassuming appearance as an advantage to deceive enemies into underestimating his physical strength.

He looked at the wall clock again. It read 7:25.

It had been five months since the untimely death of Light Nostrad. Five months since he took over the role of his predecessor as the new head of the mafia family. Now, Kurapika was nothing more than a wealthy young man. During meetings and events that he was often forced to participate, he was viewed by the entire mafia community as the quiet and mysterious figure who had inherited all the wealth of the deceased Light Nostrad. With his intellectual prowess and charisma, he managed to save the remaining prestige of the Nostrads from bankruptcy by working alongside the new Ten Godfathers as their trusted advisor. Rumors had been heard, gossips had been made, all regarding where he came from and who he really was, but no one in the community really knew. He was known as an enigma, a loner trapped in his own world.

As he knotted the black tie around his neck, he stared at the reflection on the mirror and thought of how much he had changed this past year. Gone were the days when he wore his tribal attire with pride, now he was usually dressed in expensive business suits. His hair now reached his shoulder, his face now sharper and more prominent- he had matured. There were still some traces of his boyish features, but were shaded by his constant stony façade.

Kurapika remembered that he was once a kid: innocent, naïve and curious. Hidden beneath the luscious forests of Lukuso, literally in the middle of nowhere, he had often dreamed of the world outside, where mysteries lurked in every corner, waiting to be discovered. And then he ventured out, his enthusiasm for understanding the unfamiliar land begot a tragedy that had befallen the tribe: the massacre.

And now, he was far away from the place he once called home, trapped in the world he yearned to know, _alone_. With his kinsmen gone, all he had with him was the guilt that came along with the commitment of avenging the clan and the reclaiming their eyes. His longing for things to go back to the days when everything was normal and simple was nothing more than wishful thinking.

Kurapika had completed a portion of his mission. He was, however, still far from reaching its conclusion. He managed to defeat two of the Ryodan's members and with their leader's nen temporarily subdued, he could solely put his focus on recovering his comrades' eyes for the time being. Now that he had the resources and connections, it wouldn't be much of a problem. It would not be long after Kuroro succeeds in finding a solution against the predicament Kurapika had put him to, and when that time comes, he would be ready.

In less than a year, he had become a murderer and a person working in the underworld. How low he had fallen indeed. Everything had changed and nothing would go back to the way it used to be. All he had to do was to move forward, and do what he ought to do. His innocence, his naivety, his childish nature was long gone. Everything he will do would always be for the benefit of the Kuruta. He couldn't afford to be selfish, not after his selfishness eventually led to the demise of his comrades. His only purpose, the only reason he was alive now, was to seek vengeance for the annihilation of his tribe, nothing more and nothing less.

The once wide-eyed child was nothing more than a buried treasure that would never be resurfaced, ever again. Kurapika curled his hands into fists as he felt the coldness of the chains beginning to materialize on his right hand; a reminder that he had an obligation to complete as the remaining survivor of the Kuruta Clan and he should not allow himself to fail no matter what.

* * *

**A/N: **Floriography means "Language of Flowers". Flowers will be an important motif in this story.

Being sweet and romantic is obviously not part of Kurapika's default settings, but I would like to think that dream!Kurapika is the kind of guy who loves seeing his girl happy. Since Togashi never showed us a 'Kurapika in love', I just wrote it then and there. Though I wouldn't think that he is _that_ sweet when it comes to a girl he likes, that's why I gave those qualities to his dream counterpart.

Amira is inspired by the character Ophelia from Hamlet. Now that I mentioned it, I might as well say that Suspend Your Disbelief has some influences and references from the Shakespearean play. I think you can guess who the Hamlet will be in the story. Here's a hint: his name starts with the letter 'K'. There'll be a Horatio too, which will be played by two characters: a canon and an OC.

So what do you think of Kurapika's dreams? Good sign or bad sign?

Light Nostrad's death and the reason why Kurapika is the new Nostrad head instead of Neon will be explored more in the upcoming chapters.

There is a sudden mood change between the two parts of this chapter; Kurapika's waking state is nowhere as pleasant as his dream counterpart. It was intentional since reality has always been a douche to us, and it's the same for our dear Kurapika here.

Not much happenings in this chapter since it's more of an introduction. Hopefully, the plot will start pacing by Chapter 3.

Umm, review? Any suggestions, corrections, and constructive criticisms are good. English is not my first language, so if you spot any of those grammatical suckers, please let me know. I'm a newbie writer, so I need you guys to tell me about the areas I need to work on. Yeah, see you in the next chapter.


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